


Gory Kinktober

by What_are_you_12 (Ariadne_Yemoja)



Category: Game Grumps, Original Work
Genre: Amputee, BDSM, Biting, Blood, Dacryphilia, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Edgeplay, F/F, F/M, Folklore, Gore, Goretober, Humiliation, Kinktober, Knifeplay, M/M, Medical Examination, Multi, Non-Consensual Spanking, Rape, Rashes, Siren!Dan, Tentacles, Violence, Watersports, living doll, sores, will adjust tags as I update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-23 14:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16161041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariadne_Yemoja/pseuds/What_are_you_12
Summary: Happy October!Welcome!You shouldn't be here!I love horror and I love reading fucked up things and writing fucked up things because it frees something inside me that hurts. That said I also care deeply about people not coming into contact with what hurts them so here are the warnings.I have combined Kinktober and Goretober and come up with 31 writing prompts. There will be pain, rape, death and more. Some stories will have ships, some will be original. Every chapter I will put the appropriate triggers in the notes. Protect yourself babies. You don't have to read this, you can walk away and no one will be harmed. No one will be mad if you click away. (I only add that last line because some people have a panic reaction and will stay in uncomfortable situations out of fear, it's a thing.)Anyway, now that all that is out of the way non with the the first story.-Management





	1. 1 Biting, Deep Throating, and Masks

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Rape and Assault  
> TW: Blood  
> TW: Vore? (Not sure if this counts? But I have one later on that definitely does.)
> 
> Take these warnings seriously please. With all the bullshit happening over here in the states I really want you to leave if you could be hurt by this. This is therapeutic for me. It's not necessarily for anyone else.
> 
> -Management

            The blank features terrified her the most. Pristine dove-gray masks, trimmed in faux pearls, stared down at her. Occasionally the glint of a blue or gray eye could be seen in the black eye holes. She strained against the manacles pinning her arms behind her back; chains clanked against each other uselessly. Her knees were beginning to hurt, and her jaw was beyond sore, but she wasn’t too exhausted to fight.

            Another hand, this one with long bony fingers, gripped her jaw and dug into the bone. She cried out and another cock was shoved into her mouth, slowly pushing forward till her nose brushed soft curly hair surrounding the base of this current shaft. As the man’s hips began to piston, her blue eyes glared upward at the masked face. There was a cloud of dirty blonde wisps around this one. His slight frame confused her, because the grip on her jaw guaranteed bruising.

            She could hear him panting behind the mask; it reminded her of someone doing a terrible Darth Vader impersonation. She could feel delirious laughter welling up in her chest.

            _I’m going to die here, on my knees…_ The thought began to loop, chasing its tail around her mind till renewed fight began to rumble up her chest and around the intrusion in her mouth. She didn’t know where the strength came from but despite his grip on her jaw, her teeth slammed together with a satisfying squelch.

            There was screaming, someone was hitting her; she only vaguely realized blood was trickling down her face. She just reveled in the feel of her jaw snapping closed again and again, until finally something tore free.

            There was a final blow to her temple and as it all spun into dark, something long flopped from her mouth with a wet smack.


	2. 2 Folklore, Medical Play, and Watersports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foolhardy doctors learning no lessons...
> 
> Not horrific this one. But it was fun to write.
> 
> Includes: Humiliation (just a little), and rashes/sores  
> No ships sail here.

            She got more work done with the mask on. She had never been particularly curvy, and the rasp in her voice meant that when the plague doctor mask came down most people had no trouble believe she was a man. That said, she always felt a surge of relief when she approached a house she didn’t have to pretend at. When they knew she was an accomplished healer and would rather have her than some man pretending it made her heart swell.

            Cordelia approached the side door and gave three hard raps to the wood. An older woman with graying red hair caught in a tight bun gave a deep sigh of relief and waved her into the warm cottage. It was chillier than normal this spring so Cordelia wasn’t surprised at all that she was doing more rounds.

            This home was her favorite. She suppressed a grin as she raised the beaked mask and took in the cozy kitchen. Cordelia gave another deep sigh and inclined her head to the woman taking her cloak.

            “It’s good to see you, Ma’am,” Cordelia murmured.

            The woman hung Cordelia’s cloak up on the back of the kitchen door and grunted in response. “Want a cuppa tea to fight off the chill?”

            “That would be lovely, ma’am.”

            “Stop all this ma’am stuff… I nursed you.”

            “Maybe that’s why I respect you so much.” Cordelia sat at the old wooden table and watched as the old woman bustled about. “So, what’s happened to him now?”

            The woman clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Rash… and a cold setting in.” She pulled down a mug and filled it with hot water boiling over the fireplace. “Told him to drink some of that sludge he forces on everyone else in the village and he just scowled and said to send for you.”

            This time, Cordelia let her grin go wide followed with a dark chuckle. It was hard not to. When the ‘trained doctor’ wouldn’t trust his own ‘cures’ it said a lot. Especially since men like him were the ones making it illegal for her and other women to ply the trade they had trained in for hours under the wing of wiser women. The older woman raised an eyebrow at her and Cordelia let her face go sheepish.

            “Forgive me, Rhea, but you have to admit it is funny.” Cordelia took the mug as the maid sat across from her.

            The maid folded her hands in front of her and huffed. “I will admit to enjoying you put him in his place more often than I should, Father forgive me.”

            Cordelia grinned darkly and inclined her head. “I do not expect the Father will punish you. You’ve paid your dues dealing with these men.”

            “Should I spend the rest of my days praying for you then?” Rhea reached for Cordelia’s hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

            “Somebody should. I don’t intend to do it.”

            “Mrs. Blackburne! Has she come yet?!”

            Both women rolled their eyes as the tenor growl pierced the little house. Cordelia finished her tea and rose grabbing her heavy black bag. She gave a quick wink to Rhea and headed for the bedroom.

            The bedroom was lit by the roaring fireplace across from the bed. Sitting on the end of the bed, Dr. Randall drained his glass of whatever hellfire liquid he was drinking tonight.

            “Took you long enough…” the silver haired man cast an icy glare toward Cordelia and rose with a wincing groan to refill his glass.

            Cordelia raised a thick dark eyebrow, her lips drawing down into a frown. “I’m sorry, but I had a very long day of fixing your mistakes.” She never hesitated to growl right back at him.

            “Your bedside manner is terrible.”

            “You aren’t infirm; a little rash isn’t going to kill you much to my sorrow,” Cordelia murmured.

            Dr. Randall emptied another glass and refilled it again. In the silence the crackle of the flames eating wooden logs seemed loud. Cordelia huffed and gestured toward the bed.

            “Disrobe so I can see it. I’m guessing it’s on your rear or you wouldn’t be hobbling like that.”

            “It’s definitely in an undignified area.”

            “You’re throat sounds awful too. Stop drinking that. You need things to heal your throat not scorch earth.”

            The good doctor slammed the glass onto his desk and made a gesture as he began to disrobe. “Anything else, ‘Doctor’?”

            Cordelia cleared the room in three steps with her long legs, and the room was filled with a thunderclap of a slap against his stubbly cheek. His green eyes went wide and his face immediately went sheepish.

            “Undress and get on the bed, and remember you sent for me,” she hissed.

            He let his robe drop, his face red with shame. She let her eyes wander his broad frame and she smirked as his cock twitched.

            “You disgust me,” she whispered.

            “I know… m’sorry.” He turned away and knelt on the edge of the canopy bed without any other noise.

            Cordelia ripped open her bag and snatched up her gloves, tossing them on the bed beside him. She rolled up the sleeves to her white blouse and pulled the black rubber onto her hands. She didn’t have to lean in close to see the rash, it covered the whole of his backside. Red, angry bubbles dotted his pale peach flesh. Cordelia ran her fingers over them and noticed some of them had popped. Pink tinged liquid smeared across the others as her finger tips grazed them.

            _Torn open is more like it_ , she thought.

            “You’ve been scratching these.” Her tone was bland but she was disappointed. He should know better.

            “It was a casual itch at first then it got worse and worse… Even with the pain it still itches like crazy. No amount of powder or soaking has stopped it.” His tone was one of pleading wrapped in guilt.

            Cordelia did lean closer and as she felt that tell tale energy she snickered.

            “A fairy blow… no... A curse?”

            “What?”

            “Offend anyone lately, Dr. Randall?”

            “Are you trying to tell me someone hexed me?”

            “I’m not trying to do anything. Have. You. Offended. Anyone?” She was failing at keeping the amusement out of her voice again.

            “I offend lots of people, they’re folk medicine is inferior. We have science for a reason.”

            Cordelia raised her hand and brought it down hard against his rear; his howl sent a shiver of joy down her spine.

            “Folk medicine was the basis for your scientific medicine. They had to study the plants and insects we used to find out why it helps. To compress it into those pretty pills you love dumping down people’s throats.” She raised her hand again and gave it another hard slap.

            He shrieked again and clutched the blanket. Cordelia was pretty sure he was sobbing into it. She dug into her bag and began to dig out witch hazel and alcohol.

            “I’m going to clean it first then you need to get on the floor. I’m going to need to coat this and then I will cover it in a poultice.”

            “Coat it in what?” His voice was nervous. She liked that.

            “Urine.”

            “What? Where are you going to get that?!” he shouted.

            “Guess…” She didn’t miss the renewed twitching in his growing cock but she was going to ignore it as she always did. He wasn’t worthy. He never was.

            She slowly swabbed his rear with the alcohol first, taking great pleasure in his moans, slapping his ass again when he squirmed. Then she did the same with the witch hazel. When that was done he wobbled to the middle of his floor and knelt again. Cordelia felt something tighten in her abdomen and she tried to ignore the thoughts racing through her head.

            Pulling off her trousers and panties, she folded them neatly and laid them on the overstuffed armchair by the fire. Cordelia pulled off her shoes and socks and laid them on top. When she finally chose to acknowledge Dr. Randall, his whole body was flushed red. He kept his eyes on the floor; his body trembling. She made her way behind him squatting just a little, trying not to touch him. As warmth began to flow between her legs and splash against his skin, his whimpering made her chuckle. What god allowed these creatures to control the world?

            More importantly, how would she punish him next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little late but still got it up! Go me!!
> 
> Was this close to making the doctor Ninja Brian... this fucking close.
> 
> -Management


	3. 3 Siren, Sensory Deprivation, Edge play, and Knife play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You probably shouldn't follow strange people into the sea...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Assault  
> TW: Blood and Knives  
> TW: Drowning? (I don't man, I just want you guys to be warned by whatever happens here.)
> 
> No ship on the horizon, but I present to you one evil Siren!Dan.

            Their flanging voice wove in and out, drawing the man closer toward them. They pushed dark tendrils from their wide, deep set hazel brown eyes and motioned for the man to join them. The man felt like all his needs would be met if only he went to the strange creature. He froze when icy water began lapping at his ankles, spilling into his boots.

_“Freedom begins where shores end_

_Moon tides beckon, and broken souls mend_

_Come home, come home_

_I’m waiting here on the horizon_

_Come home, come home_

_I’ll wait through every season_

_Come home…”_

            He choked back a sob as he plowed forward into the sea, an audible cry escaping as the water chilled his groin. He still continued, and the creature continued calling. They smiled wide at him, eyes appearing to fill with tears. He was going home.

            Something brushed his ankle… Seaweed probably. His leg kicked out and pushed forward. In his haze he didn’t notice it wasn’t letting go. Whatever it was coiled tighter, another slipping around his thighs. The panic bubbled free as a hard tug yanked him beneath the surface, not because he was scared to die. No… He was separated from his love. They were right there smiling at him so sweetly… with too many teeth.

            The man thrashed, trying to return to the surface, blonde hair swaying about his face like bleached kelp. More things wrapped around his legs dragging him faster into the dark deep. Water rushed into his lungs and his struggles became sluggish, jerky. It was okay though, his love was swimming towards him. Long pointed fingers reached out for him as the edges of his vision blurred. He smiled back.

 

            He woke to blackness. It was that dark that felt like you were coated in it. He could feel it seeping into his skin like the cold water. He tried to open his mouth but found he couldn’t. He willed his limbs to move but the only thing that moved was a strong whip like somethings that curled around him tight.

            “I’m so hungry, lovely… so hungry.” The tenor voice was right beside him, it was angelic and terrifying all at once.

            The man tried so desperately to whip his head toward the voice, but he couldn’t move anything. A very wide finger brushed his cheek tenderly, a thumb maybe?

            “I am so hungry and you are so very sweet…” The voice was so musical and calm. One of those thick tentacles unwound from around him and slid between his legs, while two others spread his legs wide. Another hoisted him up as hands slid up and down his damp broad frame. A razor thin edge began to slide down his chest, he tried to jerk away but he was still bound so tight. Soggy fabric was pushed away from his chest and he felt even colder. Hot breath grazed one of his nipples and a moan tried to claw its way out the man’s throat.

_Someone help me, please…_

**_(Devour me… )_ **

_I need to get free…_

**_(I need to have you…)_ **

            The man’s thoughts swung back and forth like a pendulum. What was unmistakably a tongue dragged across his chest and a hard shiver raced up his spine, pooling at the base of his skull. His heart was thundering in his ears.

            “I have found that desire tastes so much better than fear, lovely. So, I promise that your last few hours will be extremely enjoyable.”

_No!_

**_(Yes!)_ **

_Please…_

**_(Please…)_ **

            The thin metal had returned and was being dragged across his abdomen. The man would scream if he could feel it, but it was so cold. Then he was being raised higher and that tongue was swiping across what he suspected was a wound. The tentacle between his legs was sliding so, so slowly across his groin. He could feel his cock straining against the wet fabric of his pants.

            The creature softly giggled, short puffs of air caressing him. The tentacle tapered off at the end and it was currently slipping down his pants, dragging them down to his ankles underwear and all. The tip of what he was assuming was a blade slide along the underside of his shaft. The man’s body tightened preparing for pain, but no… it just glided along his skin, moving to his thighs. The blade moved up slowly to his hip and then pain. Heat bloomed on his upper thigh, blazing a trail down to his knee. The blade switched sides as he whimpered in the dark, another line scored down his other thigh.

            “I like symmetry,” the creature whispered. That tongue made its way up one of the cuts, followed by a wide mouth latching on at its start and giving the gentlest suck. One of the creature’s hands wrapped around his shaft and began to pump firmly, while the blade dragged another line down his hip.

            The man was shaking now; how was he supposed to process getting jerked off and stabbed simultaneously? His brain was telling him to fight, wiggle away. Instead his body, finally moving at least a little, arched into the creature’s hand while it idly stroked him, the ball of that strange thumb rubbing the underside of his head with skill. He could feel his muscles all contracting, his body winding up while the creature tugged and slashed at his legs. And in a moment just when he thought he would be released, it all stopped. There was a blatant nothing as he just hung in the air and rivulets of blood ran down his legs.

            “Not yet…” The creature moved away from him, humming. Even the humming sounded layered, like three voices weaving in and out together. The man swore the creature was humming ‘Tom Sawyer’. Tentacles unwound from his legs letting him dangle in the oppressive dark.

            He felt his pants slide off; he heard them plop on the ground. He still couldn’t move his mouth but his throat was working. He whimpered as another tentacle unwound from around his neck. He choked back a sob as he turned his head this way and that hoping to see something, feel something, anything.

_Anything?_

**_(Anything…)_ **

            That blade returned moving between his shoulder blades, biting deep. His muffled shriek didn’t echo in this place. A tentacle was between his legs again, another holding his waist in place. He was being stroked, harder and faster this time. He whimpered thrusting his hips forward into that cool, damp extremity. The mouth returned too, but clearly the creature wasn’t satisfied with just licking because what felt like hundreds of jagged points pierced his shoulder and he did everything he could to scream.

            The tentacle worked faster, his breathing became labored. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes. When everything stopped this time, he did his best to scream.

            “So much sweeter… I hope you last,” the creature sighed. “I’m so hungry…”

            He sobbed as the hand returned between his legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am glad I decided to write these at my own pace. It's much more fun that way.
> 
> How are you doing?
> 
> -Management


	4. 4 Doll, Spanking, and Dacryphilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you ever watch The Audition?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Amputee, needles, kidnapping, neutering(?)
> 
> Yo, feel free to correct me on these tags, I'm just trying to label shit right.
> 
> Ships in view: Commanderflaps, Egoflaps (don't know what the tag for all three is called, sorry)

            It was dark in the trunk. It smelled sterile, like someone used too much bleach to clean it up. He had long since stopped thrashing. His mind just raced thinking of all the things he was going to do to that bitch as soon as he had the chance.

            _If you get the chance…_ He ignored that thought aggressively; he focused instead on the feeling of the car turning gently into what was most likely a driveway. No slope so it was flat land most likely. The slow rumble of the car stopped and a door slammed. He could hear the sound of those tall pin heels clicking on the cement, drawing toward the trunk. He drew his knees up as close to his chest as he could get ready to kick at her with everything he had in him.

            “You got another one?” Another high voice, this one was kind of warbling and thick… like her throat had honey in it.

            _Wait… did she say another one?_ His thoughts were racing again. The bitch had done this before? Something about that thought was taking the wind out of his sails, or maybe it was that she potentially had help standing out there. He kept his knees drawn up. He could take two little women. Almost as punishment for that thought his mind replayed how she had easily got him in the temple, how she had tossed his dead weight into her car as he was beginning to come to. How she had smiled down at him sweetly tossing her long highlighted brown waves…

            Rage coursed through him, colored by just a little fear at the edges. He moaned around his gag, trying to force it out of his mouth with his tongue.

            “He’s waking up already…” honey throat stated, her tone bland.

            “I’m going to make this one suffer, I think,” the bitch chirped. She sounded so fucking happy about it all.

            “Should I get Arin?” The back of the car dipped slightly as one of them leaned against the trunk. Who was Aaron? Was it another creepy bitch or was it a guy? More fear devoured his rage.

            “Nah, I can lift him. He probably thinks he’s gonna kick me or some shit.” The bitch giggled. He could almost see her cat like, blue eyes glinting. “He’s predictable, but he’ll be fun to articulate.”

            The fuck did that mean? Also something was nagging in the back of his mind. Something off about this whole thing.

            “Do you want me to do anything Suzy?” Honey throat sounded almost bored. That thing was nagging at him again, but now he knew what it was. They weren’t hiding their names…

            “Just open the door for me, Holly? And shove the shit off my table?”

            “Sure,” Honey throat (now dubbed Holly) whispered. There was the smacking sound of a gentle kiss and the one named Suzy (She used her real name to introduce herself) giggled.

            He knows everyone of their names. If he didn’t escape, he was going to die here. He began to twist himself into position, if he could just get her as soon as he door went up… As the truck lock popped he realized something else was nagging at him. As light from a nearby streetlamp poured in to his prison and he was greeted with the silhouette of two women he realized his mistake.

            Honey throat pulled the trigger on what was clearly a taser. Lightning coursed through his body, forcing him to curl in on himself like a moth slamming into a zapper. The angelic bitch smiled wide at him and brought something down hard on his temple, submerging him into darkness all over again.

 

            His eyes fluttered open, but that was all that was responding. Everything else was refusing to respond to him. It felt like sleep paralysis, except he was completely cognizant. His eyes rolled from side to side taking in the animals perched in various places, staring down at him from wooden mounts on the walls. Then were the dolls…

            Giant, glass eyed, and porcelain pale they sat around the room in various poses and states of dress. One strangely waxy one wearing a blue sun hat sat with its back to him ‘sipping’ from a rosy tea cup. Another leaned back in their chair, legs crossed; their blank gray eyes staring down at an empty journal with a big moth on the cover. A matching pen sat in their hand, the base gently brushing soft lips. At least they were painted a soft pink…

            “He’s awake now.” The deep jovial voice set panic in his bones more than the woman who tossed him into a trunk on her own. Why? It wasn’t something he wanted to think about right now. Now he concentrated on moving as that cheerful face leaned over him.

            “If you’re wondering why you can’t move, I gave you the shit they give people about to have a brain tumor removed.” She caressed his forehead and he glared up at her.

If he could work his mouth he would have spit on her.

“They have to remove it while you’re awake you know?” she continued. “They need to make sure they are cutting into any major brain functions. So it’s sedation, localized anesthesia… it’s a process.” Her voice just rose and fell in lilting waves. “I never know if I did it right until I’m starting so some shit you might feel, some shit you won’t.”

            Another face leaned down over top of him, a ginger brown goatee covering his chin, and a matching mustache. The man (Aaron he assumed) looked amused but bored at the same time. Neck length hair fell about his face messily, a blonde streak on his right side.

            “He looks scared,” he mumbled.

            Suzy waved her hand dismissively. “Men like him are always scared of other men. She pulled on a black rubbery looking apron, followed by matching gloves. She looked like a coroner.

            _Oh god no please…_ He tried again to move, kick, scream.

            “You’re doing a whole lot of nothing their buddy,” Aaron chuckled. “Just a lot of rapid fire blinking. Unless that’s Morse code… Suze, do you think he knows Morse code?”

            “Even if he did, we don’t.” Suzy looked on the other side of the room and gave a huff of irritation.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “He threw himself on the ground again, can you bring him in here Arin?”

            “I told you, you should have just went ahead and completely dolled him.”

            “But they’re more fun this way-”

            “And more trouble!” Aaron (no… she definitely said ‘rin’ not ‘ron’) grumbled as he left the man’s view.

            Suzy smiled down at him again, almost encouragingly. “This is a good chance for you to see how pretty you’re going to be, anyway.” She stroked his face and if he could jerk away he would have.

            Somewhere to his left there was a struggle and then a whimper trailing off to a groan.

            “Don’t hurt them, Arin!” she called out.

            “Then you should discipline him better, Suzy! He made such a fucking mess in here.” He called back, tone irritated.

            Suzy just rolled her eyes and looked down at the man again, giving his face another caress. “I’m going to have some trouble matching this eye color I think. I’ll have to get creative when it’s time for it.” Her voice was so soft, like she was cooing over a baby.

            The man just glared up at her, and she continued to giggle. The squeak of wheels badly needing oil caught his attention and he rolled his eyes in the direction of the noise. He still couldn’t move his head. An old fashioned, high backed wheel chair came into his line of sight and fear was a permanent resident in his body.

            The man on the chair was covered in bandages, except for his face. He would have said from head to toe, but his legs were gone. So were his arms. The man in the wheel chair was just a head and torso in a diaper. Swollen lips were stitched together with black thread. His jaw appeared to be wired shut. A red wig spilled pristine curls down his shoulders. Streaks of black mascara sat under tired eyes. The man on the chair sniffled loud and let his head sag against his chest. The front of his diaper was turning a pale blue, like one of those designed to let you know when to change your kid…

The man on the table felt fear evolve to terror. If he could move his mouth he would be begging. Suzy turned to the wheel chair and gripped the limbless man’s face, scowling slightly.

            “I told you not to ruin your make up!” she growled. “I worked so hard on it! That was the deal, remember. You get to live if you behaved!” The man in the wheelchair began to sob softly as Suzy stormed off to grab something off the wall.

            From where he was on the table he could just glimpse a polished black handle. Arin grabbed the other man by the neck as he attempted to throw himself from the chair. If he was watching this in a horror movie he would have laughed. Now he was just praying that any deity would make his own limbs move. Suzy sat in and empty chair that he thought was at his feet and disappeared from view. Arin hefted the man up with one arm and he disappeared from view.

            Then the noises…

**THWAP**

            Shriek…

**THWAP**

            Shriek…

**THWAP**

            Shriek…

**THWAP**

            Between each loud slap, Suzy droned on about learning to be a good doll. About not making messes, about not ruining her hard work, about how she was trying to make him better. The man on the table felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes, his heart racing.

            “And you’ve torn your stitches! I can’t deal with this now…”

            “We should just put him in the basement room until you can get to him.” Arin murmured.

            “Yeahhh… okay. You can handle it?” Suzy asked, voice coated in disappointment.

            “Holly will help me. She’s already down there making a new bed for this one.” Arin said.

            The man closed his eyes again to avoid the sight of Arin hefting up the sobbing, painted man… To avoid the sight of him being wheeled out… To avoid the sight of Suzy hanging that paddle back in its place… To keep the tears from spilling.

            “I’m sorry you had to see that. He made such a mess of my work. But don’t worry; you won’t be such a bad boy will you?”

            He was beginning to hyperventilate. She was touching his face again and his skin wanted to crawl away.

            “Not like you were earlier… Don’t worry I’ll make you better. You won’t hurt anyone else ever again when I’m done.” There was noise to his right. She was rooting through a bag it sounded like. When he opened his eyes again she was standing over, a needle in one hand and a scalpel in the other. “Localized anesthesia… Let’s get started. I don’t know how long these drugs last and I don’t want to have to give you another dose so soon.”

            Her hand came down and there was a sharp pinch between his legs. Tears fell then; his eyes went wide and they slid down his cheeks. There was a chilling numbness that settled in his groin and a whimper finally slid up his throat. Suzy placed down the needle and stroked his cheek again, her smile bright.

            “Look at you, you are going to be so perfect…”

            There was a wet, slashing sound filling his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm spacing these out because if I pressure myself it just becomes stressful. I'm enjoying it like this honestly. It feels more natural.
> 
> What are you doing for Halloween?
> 
> -Management


End file.
